


Leave Your Lover

by craicwhoran



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Falling In Love, Gay, Gay Sex, Heartbreak, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2047050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craicwhoran/pseuds/craicwhoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys find themselves entwined in a passionate mess of unrequited love and misdirected feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much planned for this. It's my first legit fic and I'm going all out for it. Please let me know what you think!

Zayn sat slumped over in a chair on the balcony of his 25th floor flat absorbing London as he breathed in his cigarette. The view of the glimmering city lights was something he never took for granted. It was a beautiful reminder of how far he had come. Life for the mahogany-eyed boy was stressful and it was easy to forget just how fortunate the five boys really were.

He took one last drag from his cherry-tipped cigarette and extinguished it. As he exhaled, he felt the warm breeze kiss his bare chest. The sensation snapped his attention back to the whole reason he had escaped to the balcony. Just the night before, Niall had been the one to lightly caress his torso, almost identical to the zephyr that surrounded him now. Zayn clenched his sharp jaw trying to suppress the flood of tears that were threatening to fall from behind his henna-hued eyelashes.

Zayn had fallen in love with the blond during the band’s first tour. He knew, however, that the love he had for Niall was unrequited. Though Zayn’s love was wasted, it never hindered his support for Niall; he was always there when the Irishman needed comfort. Most recently, Niall had shown up for support after Harry brought home yet another guy. 

The evening Niall came over was the most blissful night Zayn had ever experienced. He had gone to bed only to be woken up at 1:30 in the morning by a slow, crisp tear hitting his chest and running downward toward the soft bed sheet. The weight of Niall’s head was rested between Zayn’s arm and his dense pec. As the British-Pakistani boy became more cognizant, he breathed in the warm scent of Niall.          

“Aw, mate, c’mon. Cheer up,” Zayn whispered groggily. “What’s wrong?” 

Zayn waited patiently for a reply he knew wouldn’t come. He could feel the vibrations of Niall crying. It was something that pained him to feel, but he also knew that Niall wouldn’t be buried in his embrace without being heartbroken. In a small, unsavory way Zayn was grateful that the blond was so upset. The brunet reached down to catch a single tear just as it began to part ways with the lashes to which it clung. He rolled the tear between his thumb and forefinger until his smooth hands almost completely absorbed the moisture. The rest of the salty droplet was combed through Niall’s perfectly disorganized hair.

Slowly, yet without hesitation, Niall sat up and twisted his upper half over Zayn. He looked at him through blurry eyes, one last tear hitting Zayn’s honey-colored chest. Zayn instantly became aware of the fact that he was completely naked and that Niall only had on his boxer briefs. With the realization, the rhythm of Zayn’s heart became faster with every moment Niall lingered over him. The two boys were illuminated as the moon’s creamy glow and the London lights seeped into the bedroom through the balcony doors. The stillness of the room was broken as Niall’s eyes drifted from Zayn’s chocolate irises to his captivating lips. Niall closed his eyes as he leaned downward, taking Zayn’s bottom lip between his own. 

“Ni, we shouldn’t,” Zayn gasped between the kisses. “This isn’t what you want.”

Niall drew back and stared directly into Zayn’s eyes with a look of despair and determination, “It’s what I need.” 

With that, Zayn contested no more. In the back of his mind, Zayn knew that his heart would be ravaged by morning, but Niall had such a hold over him that Zayn couldn’t refuse any request… no matter how much it jeopardized his own happiness.

Niall moved his kisses down to Zayn’s neck, making Zayn arch his back from the sensation. Niall kept one hand wrapped in Zayn’s hair while the other explored the rest of his body, eventually making its way to his shaft. A faint moan fell from Zayn’s mouth as Niall gripped it and began flirting with the head. The older boy’s breathing increased as he began thrusting his hips into his bandmate’s face. Zayn moved both hands to the back of Niall’s head, tightening his grip around Niall’s locks enough to persuade Niall to relinquish some of his control and allow Zayn to take charge of the blond’s movements. Zayn bit his lip as he continued to thrust his cock into Niall’s mouth, getting harder with each buck of his pelvis.           

Niall sat up, breathing heavily. “Roll over,” he commanded. Zayn followed the order without hesitation; he had been hungering for this very moment for years. Zayn calmly reached for the lube as Niall pulled his underwear down, revealing himself fully erect. Zayn glanced back, almost crumbling at the sight. The Irishman leaned forward pressing himself firmly into Zany’s waiting backside to take the bottle. Niall nibbled and kissed at Zayn’s ear before sitting back up and giving what he was about to fuck a firm squeeze. He played with the tightness of the dark-haired lover’s hole constantly absorbing and reacting to each moan and sigh of pleasure.

The blond held the bottle of lube high above Zayn’s ass, drizzling the cool liquid down the well-defined ridge and inciting a hushed gasp from the pale-brown boy. Taking just a moment for the wetness to run, Niall stopped the flow before spreading it gently up and down Zayn’s lightly furry skin and tenderly filling his hole with two fingers. Niall caressed Zayn from the inside with his right hand while gripping his waist with his left. Niall held him in place as though Zayn wasn’t already willingly giving himself up to the Celt.          

“Ni, quit tormenting me, babe,” Zayn demanded sweetly.

“Ya ready for it den?” Niall asked breathily, beginning to tease Zayn’s opening with his uncircumcised head. Zayn only moaned in response as he pushed back against his fair skin. Niall stiffened even more, his own cock persuading him to finally give Zayn what he asked for.       

Niall took his pulsing cock and coaxed it into Zayn until he was as deep as he could get. He grabbed his hips and forced the coffee-colored ass to grind against his pelvis digging even deeper. Zayn moaned thunderously in return. Encouraged, Niall withdrew quickly only to slam his hips back into Zayn’s muscular ass. Both boys yelled in pleasure with each intensifying, momentous thrust.

Niall slowed, “Fuuck! I’m so close.” He leaned onto glistening back before him, his lips craving Zayn’s. 

“Don’t come yet, Niall,” Zayn pleaded. “Fuck me harder.”

Niall panted Zayn’s name in lust, the lone syllable falling onto the back Zayn’s neck carried by the current of Niall’s delicate breath.

Niall obliged. Cock still swollen with passion, he moved to the edge of the bed and stood on the floor. Grabbing one of Zayn’s toned, hairy calves, Niall forcefully flipped the brunet around and pulled him closer. Niall placed Zayn’s legs onto his broad shoulders and pushed his dick back into the hole he had pounded moments ago. As his cock slid in, Zayn yelped in satisfaction.        

The Irishman confidently grabbed his friend by the ankles and spread his legs, holding them outward as he rapidly fucked what was in between. Zayn was rock hard and screaming in bliss as Niall stimulated every inch his 7” cock could reach. Zayn’s hands were balled into fists that were unforgivingly gripping the sheet behind his head.           

Mentally pausing for a moment to absorb what was happening in his flat, Zayn stared at the moonlight glimmering into Niall’s blue eyes. The Irish boy’s skin was even milkier in the paleness of the 2am glow, each muscle more defined.           

Every bead of sweat that fell from Niall’s brow seemed to stain Zayn’s mind, helping him commit what Niall looked like in that very moment to memory.          

Niall’s expression began to change, “Zayn… f-fuck… I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Keep fucking, Ni. I’m… almost there,” Zayn whimpered. “I’m so hard and that ass is yours. …Just. Keep. Fuucking it! FUCK!” And with that, Zayn burst all over himself without his cock even being touched. Just the sight, the thought, the feeling of Niall inside him made him come. 

“Shit, Zayn! So fuckin’ hot!” Niall said, furrowing his brow and taking in the sight of Zayn and all his mess. “Fuck… I’m gonna cum!” Niall yelled as a he yanked his cock from the hole, crawled onto the bed toward Zayn and stood on his knees over the dark-haired boy’s face. Zayn opened his mouth in preparation while Niall stroked before he showering Zayn’s face with his come and quickly filling the boy’s mouth with his still-throbbing cock. Zayn sucked and licked it dry before Niall used it to push the come that had shot onto Zayn’s face into his mouth. Zayn was sure not to waste a single drop.        

The boys threw themselves toward the headboard of the bed and sighed exhaustingly. They were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as Niall lay buried between Zayn’s arm and abdomen. Neither spoke a word; they simply held one another among the soft, messy linen, moonlight soaking the bedsheets. Zayn listened attentively to the boy he was in love with inhale and exhale in an increasingly slower rhythm as if he were saying something important. He swore the blond even breathed in an Irish accent.    

It was mere minutes, if not seconds, before Niall drifted into sleep. Zayn, having to pee, made certain he didn’t disturb him as he retrieved his arm from behind the boy with the pale skin. As he stood, he turned and took the sight in once more.

His need for Niall was quenched only for the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn admits his feelings for Niall and Liam is the world's sweetest friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying this so far!

Sunrise came, flooding the room with warm light. Zayn woke up to find Niall facedown completely sprawled out, his hair utterly disheveled. The white linen sheet covered only bits and pieces of him. His left arm dangled over the bed and Zayn couldn’t help but to wish it were draped over him. He knew it was in vain, but a large part of him had remained hopeful that Niall would still be cradled in his embrace as they awoke. 

Zayn inhaled the moment. 

He tried to appreciate it. It was everything he wanted. But he knew that once he got up, every part of what he and Niall shared would parish. He could already feel his heart start to fracture. 

Zayn glanced at the time. He needed to get up or he’d be late. Quietly, he stood up stark naked and walked to the bathroom to shower. He let the hot water cascade down his face as he replayed the events of the night before, running through all of the choices he made and the respective consequences to come.

Drenched, he shut off the water and loosely wrapped a towel around his waist. Niall was still asleep as Zayn dried off and got dressed. He grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys before lightly kissing Niall on his exposed cheek and leaving.

 

 

 

Zayn’s drive mimicked his shower. He was on his way to have breakfast with his mother. It was something he had been looking forward to for weeks, but was now having a hard time feeling enthusiastic about. 

He arrived and did all the things he was supposed to… eat, smile, laugh at his mother’s adorkable jokes. But it was out of habit; Zayn wasn’t mentally present. His mind was still entangled by thoughts of Niall. 

He left breakfast and immediately texted Liam. He needed an outlet. Typically he would talk to Harry, a great listener, but the whole reason any of the previous night even happened was because of Harry. Liam was the next best thing. 

Liam quickly responded and Zayn made a quick U-turn towards Liam’s flat. Once he arrived, Zayn all but ran to the elevator and into Liam’s.

He explained everything in what seemed like one breath.

Liam took a moment to grasp what Zayn was saying, eventually countering with, “Shit, mate. That’s intense.” 

Zayn stared blankly into the air with his arms tossed in his lap, now completely speechless. 

“So, you’re seriously in love with Niall, then?” Liam asked with a smile. 

“Yeah, I really am.” 

Liam pulled a face of both surprise and contentment. He gave a hefty sigh, validating Zayn’s feelings of confusion and uncertainty. 

Zayn blinked, still staring expressionlessly into nothing. “The fuck do I do, Li?” 

Liam took note of the depression and desperation that flitted through Zayn’s milky voice. He hadn’t seen his friend in such a state before; it further solidified how significant the situation was. He walked into the kitchen and poured Zayn a substantial glass of crimson wine, leaving the bottle uncorked knowing it would be needed again.  

Liam sat next to Zayn on the couch handing the glass to him in the process. Zayn took the glass and immediately laid his head on Liam’s sturdy shoulder. A tear slowly trickled from the corner of his eye, darkening the fabric of Liam’s shirt as it soaked in. 

Liam briefly considered saying something to try to comfort Zayn, but he knew that wasn’t the kind of support that would help him. Zayn just needed someone to be there and Liam was glad he was chosen for the task. 

The rest of the day was spent the same way. Quiet, miserable. By nightfall, Zayn’s heart was drenched in wine. His head rested on Liam’s thigh as they sat on the couch, soft music playing from the speakers, Liam running his hands through his lustrous hair. 

“Sorry, but I’ve really gotta wee.”  Liam said as he delicately lifted the head from his lap.

Liam finished up, not even bothering to wash his hands. “Any thoughts about dinn-…er?” Liam hesitated while he looked around the room.

Zayn had left.

  

 

 

Liam wasn’t sure where Zayn went or what to do. He did know, however, that the lovesick boy shouldn’t be driving with all the wine pumping through his veins. Concerned, the dirty blond grabbed his phone and found Zayn’s number.

He waited as it rang. Excitement and relief quickly rushed over when he heard the Bradford accent. Just as swiftly as it came, the feeling vanished and was replaced with uncertainty and uneasiness again as he realized he was only listening to Zayn’s voicemail. He tried several more times, each attempt further lowering his hope.

He picked up his cell again, this time tapping on Niall’s number. Niall answered, mouth full of food, yet still spirited. “Hey, Liam!”

“Zayn hasn’t shown up to your house by any chance, has he?” 

“Nope. Somethin’ tha matter?” Niall asked, his voice somehow sounding concerned and bright at the same time.

“I’m not quite sure, yet,” he said, reeling through his mind for possible places Zayn might have gone. “Let me know if you hear from him, yeah?”

“Of course, Li,” Niall reassured him as Liam hung up. Liam didn’t bother calling either Harry or Louis. 

Liam slumped into the couch and tried to put himself into Zayn’s position. Then it hit him, Zayn had gone back to his flat. Liam remembered finding Zayn on his balcony at 3am in the dead of winter, snow feathering down from the grey sky. Zayn explained how important the place was to him, how clearly he could think in the peace.

Liam snatched his keys from the counter and ran down the stairs, skipping as many as he could. He reached his car and clicked the seatbelt as he pulled out of the parking space. He had a gut feeling Zayn would be there. If he wasn’t, Liam was out of ideas and would just have to wait until he heard from Zayn. Liam drove across London as fast as he could until he swung into the first available parking spot he could find.

He opened the unlocked door and could see Zayn’s silhouette through the glass doors. As he exhaled, all the anxiety that had built up in him instantaneously died. Liam twisted the knob and stepped onto the balcony, taking note of Zayn’s freshly extinguished cigarette. “Why didn’t you say something before you left?” Liam asked, not a trace of irritation in his voice.

“Dunno,” Zayn answered after a lengthy pause. “Just had to be here, I guess.”

Liam looked off into the city, not saying a word. He could see why this was such a refuge for Zayn. It was spectacular. He inhaled the warm wind, letting it fill his lungs. Liam took the pillows and blankets Zayn had brought out and made a place to lie on the balcony floor. “Come on then… come down here with me,” Liam said compassionately. Zayn furrowed his brow slightly confused, but complied.

The boys laid down, silently looking up at the sky. The city lights drowned the stars mostly, only a few bright enough to protrude. As they lay, they listened to the sounds of cars and people bustling below them. They were so high up the individual sounds weren’t quite discernable; the noises were all one cacophony. Above them a plane skimmed the bottom of the clouds. Zayn’s voice gently broke the stillness, “Do you ever wonder who’s up there?”

“Up where?” Liam asked.

“That plane… any plane,” Zayn answered slowly.

Liam thought for a moment, considering Zayn’s question. Before Liam could answer the question, Zayn rolled onto his stomach and laid his head on Liam’s chest – Something Liam wasn’t expecting, but didn’t mind, either. Liam half-smiled at how adorable, almost childlike, Zayn was right then. He had always had a particular affinity towards the brunet. There was something about his reserved disposition, dark eyes, and bad boy look that had always given Liam an excuse to stare a second longer than he should. 

The scent of Zayn’s hair rode the breeze into Liam’s nose. The aroma enticed him to play with the dusky locks. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the unusual, serene moment.

Zayn felt calm and valuable clasped to Liam’s chest. It was soothing. Zayn, without thinking, began to trace his fingertips along the muscle concealing Liam’s heart. His hand found its way up Liam’s neck. Zayn lifted his head, grasped the fair-skinned neck a little firmer before he leaned in and placed his lips on Liam’s. The blond did nothing to stop it. 

Liam had never kissed another boy before, but this felt natural. He liked the feeling of the stubble against his lips and the way Zayn tasted. He could feel himself growing in his jeans. His heart rate increased and he could feel the adrenaline enter his bloodstream. 

Liam throbbed against the pressure his underwear was creating. Zayn must have noticed, because his hand moved from Liam’s neck to his abs and slid under the waistband of his briefs. Zayn tenderly squeezed his balls and moved his hand to Liam’s dick. Zayn interrupted a kiss, but kept his lips on Liam’s, “Jesus, Liam, it’s a fucking monster.” Hearing it made Liam pulse into Zayn’s hand. Zayn continued to kiss Liam passionately as he stroked the thick shaft. Liam moved his hips with the rhythm of Zayn’s hand, soft moans muffled by the touching lips.

Liam took one last, lingering kiss from Zayn and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not like this, Zayn. Not while the wounds are so fresh.”

The light-brown boy regrettably agreed, removing his hand from the warmth of Liam’s jeans. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Zayn lay back down onto Liam’s chest.

Liam felt terrible, but he couldn’t let himself exploit Zayn’s emotions. He couldn’t cause him any more heartache. Zayn didn’t _really_ want him, anyway. He wanted Niall. Liam didn’t want Zayn to do exactly what Niall had done to him the night before.

“You know, I didn’t mind what you were doing,” Liam explained sweetly. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

Zayn only nodded in response. He understood Liam was acting in his best interest, but Zayn was getting lost in those kisses… he was forgetting that he loved Niall, if only momentarily.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam lets Louis in on what's happening, Zayn struggles to find the courage he needs, and Niall reads a text meant for Harry's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please tell me what you guys think! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read it!

**Chapter 3**  

 

The next several weeks were just as torturous for Zayn. Niall was the only person he wanted to be around, yet to do so was agonizing. He cloaked himself in happiness, but Liam could see right through him. If any of the other boys were to just take the time and look at Zayn, they’d see it, too. 

Zayn was lying in bed awake when he heard his door unlock and open. He half hoped it would be a thief, but he knew it was Niall. His stomach sank as he watched Niall’s outline creep into his bedroom. The blond removed his shirt and pants and crawled into bed.  

“Harry have company again?” Zayn asked in a low voice.

“Geez, I didn’t tink you’d be up,” Niall said surprised.

“Haven’t been sleepin’ much the past few weeks,” Zayn replied, making sure his voice didn’t contain any sadness. “Wanna talk about what’s going on?”

Niall sighed. “Not particularly, no. I just don’t think Harry is ever going to realize how much he means to me.”

“You ever think about _telling_ him, Niall?” Zayn rolled his eyes at his own hypocrisy. “You don’t know how Harry feels about you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Niall countered.

Zayn scoffed lightly, “You’re not kidding.”

He almost had the courage to tell Niall how he felt, to be brave, to follow his own advice. Instead, he lay there hating himself for guiding Niall into Harry’s arms rather than his own. He had Niall in bed with him physically, but Niall’s heart belonged to Harry.

Niall rolled into Zayn’s embrace, pretending it was Harry. It was the only thing he could do to keep the tears from escaping. He took in Zayn’s scent, letting him skim his fingers through his hair. In return, he followed the veins of Zayn’s bicep with his finger. The two fell asleep perfectly intertwined.

 

 

 

 

Zayn opened his eyes to find himself alone in bed. His heart dropped… Niall had left. Trying not to let it get to him, Zayn threw on a pair of wrinkled boxers he’d grabbed from the hamper. He made his way towards the bathroom, peed, and then headed toward the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he walked.

“You’re up! Finally!”

Zayn jumped. He hadn’t expected Niall to be standing in his kitchen. “I- I thought you’d left.”

“Nah,” Niall laughed. “Woke up early and was starvin’. Figured I’d make us some food.”

Zayn scratched the back of his head. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, though,” not knowing what else to say.

“You didn’t have to let me into your bed last night, but you did. Least I could do.”

Zayn was almost stunned. Of all the times he had been there for the slightly younger Irishman, Niall had never really acknowledged his efforts. Zayn sat down at the small kitchen table and looked at the food Niall had prepared. He didn’t know what to feel. This was everything he wanted; he and Niall have slept in the same bed, fucked, Niall has made him breakfast… everything. But the fact that Niall was in love with Harry, that he was only seeking out Zayn’s embrace to keep himself from falling, destroyed the romance of it all.

Zayn felt the courage building within him. He _needed_ to tell the boy standing before him how he felt. He swallowed, mouth drying instantaneously, “… Niall… I have to say something.”

Niall looked at Zayn intently, but continued to hold just a slight smile on his lips. As much as Zayn wanted to, he couldn’t look at him. “Well, what’s up?” Niall asked eagerly.

Zayn’s gaze was fixed blankly on the table in front of him. Second guesses and “what ifs” flooded his veins. His hesitation seized the courage he held so briefly. “… You can stay here as long as you need. I’m here for you,” Zayn improvised.

A subtle look of confusion flickered over Niall’s face. “You’re a great friend. You really are,” Niall said with a smile. “…Now, eat before it’s cold.”

Zayn knew Niall’s intentions were as pure as his beautiful blue eyes, but the word “friend” echoed in his ears. He didn’t want to be a friend, he wanted to be a _boy_ friend. Every chance he had to tell Niall that, he fucked up. He knew all too well that being a _friend_ was his fault at this point.

Niall made himself a plate and sat across from Zayn, who was dismally lost in thought. The blond took notice, but only watched as he ate. He knew something wasn’t quite right with him, but knew Zayn would tell him in his own time.

The Irishman chugged the last of his milk and stood up from the table, “Gonna hop in the shower and go hang out with the boys… I think Harry’s gonna be there, but I can manage. You’re welcome to come along.”

Zayn only shook his head softly in response.

Niall lingered a moment to further dissect what had Zayn in such a state. He patted the still-shirtless boy on the shoulder and walked away.

He got into the bathroom, but didn’t feel it necessary to shut the door. He took his clothes off and ran the water before stepping into the glass-walled shower.

The brunet had just finished breakfast and put his plate by the sink. As he walked back to his bedroom to change, he peered into the steamy room to steal a glance of the blond. Niall had his face directly under the shower head, his hair foamy with shampoo. Zayn’s brown eyes meandered down his back to his soapy ass.

The pale boy began to sing and turned his back to the water. Zayn saw it all. He felt so guilty for watching Niall and hated himself for it, but he couldn’t look away. He loved how the water trickled along the curves of his muscles before it ran down to the tip of his foreskin.

Niall rinsed the soap from his hair and eyes. Zayn’s attention snapped back and he continued into the room, not wanting to get caught.

“Zayn… Could you get me a towel?” Niall shouted from the steamy bathroom.

He thought about not doing it, just letting Niall walk around bare and wet. “Yeah, be there in a second,” he called back. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet. He stood at the door and looked away from Niall as he held the towel out towards him.

“Since when are you so shy?” Niall asked with a laugh.

“Not _shy_ , just… _respectful_ is all.”

“Since when are you _respectful_ , then?” he said, laughing even more.

Zayn turned his head towards him, “Better?”

“There we go. Better.” Niall smirked. Zayn stood there, watching Niall dry himself off completely unfazed by Zayn’s presence. Every time Niall wasn’t fully paying attention, Zayn took the opportunity to study his friend’s figure. He had seen him naked so many times before, but he never grew tired of the sight. He was always able to find something new to appreciate.

Niall glanced up, “Something bothering you today?”

Zayn’s breathing hitched, “N-no, I’m fine.” He forced a smile, “Why?”

“Ya seem off… down about something,” Niall said as he let the towel drop and messed with his hair in the mirror. “You’re here for me, but I’m here for you, too. You know that, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about stuff just ‘cause I’m having a hard time about Harry and what not… If that makes sense.”

The light brown eyes met the crystal blues in the mirror, but only briefly before pulling away and fixating on the floor. Zayn bit at the skin on his plump bottom lip, a sign that showed Niall he was uncomfortable. The concern in Niall’s chest swelled. He walked over to the brunet, still completely exposed, and lightly lifted the boy’s chin with his hand. Niall’s expression compelled Zayn to look into his eyes, to hold his gaze.

“I’m here, Zayn,” the blond said solemnly. “Anything you want to talk about… I’m right here.”

“Nothing’s wrong, babe, I promise,” he said as confidently as he could. But, Niall still wasn’t convinced. Niall’s eyes stayed in place, not breaking the connection they had with Zayn’s. He hated that Zayn was lying so boldly to his face and doing it so badly. At the same time, he knew there was no way he could force him to talk about whatever was bothering him until he was ready. Niall let his hand fall from Zayn’s well-defined jaw, a sadness lingering in both sets of eyes now. The older took in the sight before him once more and walked back into his room.

Niall styled his hair, trying to get it as perfect as Lou does in hopes of impressing Harry, and threw on the same clothes he had on the day before. He walked up to Zayn’s door, getting ready to knock. The blond stood motionless for a moment with his knuckles against the wood, but decided to skip the formalities and just opened it. Zayn was laying on his bed, looking miserable. “Just giving you a heads up that I’m leaving… sure you don’t wanna come?” Niall said in a low voice.

“Nah, I’m good, mate.”

“Text me if you change your mind, yeah?”

“Alright,” Zayn replied dryly.

 

 

 

 

Niall walked into Liam’s to find the boys playing FIFA. Normally he’d be interested in playing, but he wasn’t able to shake the worry he felt about Zayn during the drive to Liam’s. When he realized that the only place to sit was next to Harry, his attention quickly shifted. As he sat, he breathed in Harry’s scent. He was so close to the curly-haired boy, but couldn’t touch him how he wanted. The blond stared at Harry unintentionally, taking in his smile and the sound of his laugh as though he hadn’t already memorized it. Liam happened to look over; he was happy Zayn wasn’t there to witness it himself. He gave a short cough that broke the Irishman’s gaze. A slight look of horror brushed Niall’s face as he realized Liam knew. What neither of the boys noticed was that Louis had picked up on their own little silent exchange.

Louis stood up and walked towards the kitchen. He made a few noises, pretending as though he was rummaging around looking for something. “Liam, I can’t seem to find the menu from that Chinese place down the street… Mind helping me find it?”

Liam’s eyes were glued to the TV as he watched Harry control the players, “It’s in the drawer under the microwave.”

“Nope, not there. Definitely looked there. I looked in every drawer you have, actually. Can’t find it, so you’ll have to come in here to help me,” Louis called back in a somewhat suspicious tone hoping Liam would pick up on the hint.

“Mate, it’s there… I’ve just used it the other da-” 

Louis cut him off, “I’ve given it a proper look and it is _absolutely_ not here.”

Liam gave a small huff of annoyance as he got up and made his way into the kitchen. He opened the drawer and pulled out the menu immediately, “It’s right here, Louis.”

“I don’t need the menu!” Louis said in a loud whisper. “I want to know whatever just happened with Ni.” 

“What? Nothing. He just was being Niall is all.”

“Liam…” Louis said almost authoritatively.

Liam gave in, he knew Louis wouldn’t have dragged him into the kitchen to interrogate him if he thought Niall was just being Niall. “You cannot say a fucking word,” Liam said sternly.

Louis only made a face as if to say that he was an excellent secret keeper.

“Oh please, you tell everyone everything!” Liam disputed. “I shouldn’t even be considering telling you this.”

Louis pouted his lips as a plea, but he knew he had already convinced him.

Liam continued, lead with a dramatic sigh, “Fine. Not a word! Niall is completely infatuated by Harry and has been for some time.”

“Niall has it for Harry?” Louis asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Like bad,” Liam answered. “Please, _please_ don’t tell Harry. Niall would be mortified.”

Louis’ eyes lit up with excitement, “We have to tell him! What if it’s like _meant to be_ or something? We can’t just let keep him in the dark. Plus, he’s my best friend… It’s basically my top obligation to let him know when someone has a crush on him.”

Liam’s face began to fill with frustration. This was the exact reason he didn’t want to tell Louis. “Has he even mentioned anything about having feelings towards Niall, though?”

“Well, no. But—”

“Right. Then we should keep this between ourselves, shouldn’t we? We’re not matchmakers. I’m not even supposed to know. I only know because—” Liam stopped himself before he told Louis about everything that had happened recently between Niall, Zayn and his own involvement. 

“… Because…” Louis prodded.

Liam hesitated briefly to come up with some answer other than the truth, “I only know because I heard Niall talking in his sleep a while back on the bus. I kept asking questions until he told me.”

Just then Harry called out, eyes still adhered to the television, “Have you two found that menu, yet? I’m starving; only had a banana for breakfast.”

“Uh, yep! Here it is, just found it,” Louis replied as he opened the drawer and _actually_ retrieved the menu. He wasn’t particularly hungry or even in the mood for Chinese food, he had really just used it as a quick excuse to get Liam away from the boys. Without much of an option, he and Liam took the menu into the other room and put it on the table for the boys to look at.

Excited for food, Harry quit his game and tossed the controller to Liam. Without looking at the menu, Harry spouted off his order towards Louis, “I’ll just have an order of the sesame chicken, fried rice, wonton soup, 2 egg rolls, and an extra fortune cookie.” He threw himself into the couch to lie down, grabbing his phone. He typed out a short text with a candid smile on his face. Niall, having watched basically his every movement since he arrived, was curious to know what he had typed that was so clever. Moments later, Harry’s phone lit up and vibrated. Harry’s smile even more genuine, Niall’s curiosity even stronger.

With Niall now at one end of the couch and Harry sprawled out on the rest, Harry extended his legs and propped them up on Niall’s lap. The blond prayed he didn’t feel him stiffening in his already tight pants. Though he enjoyed it, Niall was relieved when the buzzer rang and Harry volunteered to go get the food from the delivery guy in the lobby.

The curiosity within Niall still lingered; he needed to know who Harry was so fondly texting. Possibilities raced through his mind _. One of the boys he had brought home? Just a friend from home?_ Looking around, he noticed the rest of the band members were distracted with other things. Niall reached for the lanky boy’s phone and calmly-but-guiltily put in the 4-digit passcode he knew Harry had never changed. His eyes searched the screen hurriedly for the text app before finding it and tapping on the lime green icon. The recent list of texts appeared. The blue eyes shot to the first conversation on the list and skimmed the name _Greg Horan_. Niall exhaled his curiosity and felt foolish for being so concerned with who had made Harry smile through the small, dimly lit screen. As his index finger pressed the sleep button, he caught the text beneath the name. 

**Greg Horan**

_I can’t wait to see you again either. xx_

Anguish flooded Niall’s chest. His heart raced, his thoughts froze. _Greg and Harry_ were the only words his mind could conjure.


	4. Chapter 4

Zayn looked back at Niall. This was the fourth night this week that he had crawled into the dusky-haired lad’s bed. It was the fourth night that Niall had cried in his arms after fucking Zayn mercilessly. The fourth night he fell asleep on Zayn’s pillow as the smoker cried quietly to himself at the edge of the bed, tinged blue by the light of the city seeping through the glass. Zayn somehow seemed to hold himself together while Niall was awake, though. He only ever allowed a tear or two to fall in the shower, knowing it would be instantly masked by the steamy water already pouring over his body. 

The more nights the blond spent in his bed, the harder it became to even set foot in his own room. More and more of those late night memories. As ravaging and painful as it was, there was a selfish desire rooted within Zayn that refused to stop any of it. Feeling Niall’s pale, peach fuzz-covered skin and having him unleash his emotions deep within his tanned ass was something he couldn’t forgo.

  

 

Niall couldn’t be around Harry. He felt betrayed. Betrayed by Harry for being with Greg. Betrayed by Greg for not saying a word about his feelings for Harry. Betrayed by himself for even searching through Harry’s phone like some crazed lover, even though Harry had no idea. What he had with Zayn was helping to mask the pain. It was almost a drug for Niall. He could so easily convince the bearded boy to roll over and beg for every inch. He wasn’t sure _how_ he got him to do it so effortlessly, but he wasn’t that interested in the answer, if he was being honest with himself. He just knew that it numbed the hurt.

Zayn and Niall spent the day together but, in a way, completely apart. They laid on the couch, drowning themselves in sorrow, ice cream, and horrible daytime tv. Neither had showered or even bothered getting dressed. Zayn had on a pair of boxers he had worn for the past two days and Niall had on a slightly fresher pair of briefs. Niall sandwiched Zayn between his chest and the couch cushions. While the blond was busy mindlessly watching television, Zayn spent his time taking in Niall’s beautiful face and tracing the words “I love you” on his naked back with his index finger, though the Irishman thought it was nothing more than arbitrary movements. 

As Zayn’s finger traced on and the sunlight poured through the balcony windows, his hand began to trace down the smooth spine atop him. The misery the darker boy felt had seemingly vanished, forgetting that Niall wasn’t _his_. He softly let his middle finger drift beneath the white waistband of Niall’s well-fitted briefs and let it rest momentarily in the top of the split. He felt the smallest breath release from mouth that lay on his chest. Niall’s mess of blond hair rested just under Zayn’s nose. He inhaled as deeply, as consciously as he could, taking in the familiar smell of his own shampoo and conditioner faintly clinging to the golden locks. The hand gently stretched the fabric of the cotton underwear as it moved to cup a pale cheek.

Zayn could feel Niall growing and it was mere seconds before his own began to stiffen. Niall laid still, feeling the boy beneath him firmly press his hip upwards into the blond. Niall’s eyes stayed falsely focused on the tv, but he felt the hand leave his backside. Zayn put two fingers to the small boy’s red lips, touching them faintly until they opened. The masculine fingers rubbed against the warm wet, sliding back towards his throat until he could feel Niall physically suppress a gag. He withdrew his fingers, drenched in his lover’s saliva, and brought them down to his entrance, leaving a thin trail of spit on the pale back in the hand’s wake. 

Niall, almost completely motionless, liberated his smooth ass from his now-tighter briefs by pulling them down just enough to reveal the two muscles the other boy was spreading. Zayn’s fingers were slick against his pulsing hole, but had yet to go in. Niall reared his hips backwards, pushing his exposed end into the Pakistani boy’s fingers. The tips of the two tan fingers slipped into the light pink, a whisper of a moan coming from the blond as he bit his bottom lip.

Niall’s eyes rolled back, his heartbeat picking up speed. He turned his head toward Zayn, a pure look of lust written on his face as his hole twitched around the fingers. The blue eyes were locked tight with the brown pair inches away. For a moment Niall questioned what was transpiring. This wasn’t how it usually happened; Niall always called the shots… Zayn always gave into him. He hadn’t any objections, though. There was something intoxicating in the way the roles were reversed that his body craved.

Zayn continued to stare into the cerulean irises. Again, he took his hand away from Niall’s entrance, a look of dissatisfaction fluttering over the Irish face. The fingers gently pried their way between the lips once more. Niall gave a few light sucks and a few strokes with his tongue hinting at what might be in store for Zayn’s cock. Zayn placed his hand back at the trembling flesh, touched it lightly and, without warning, forcefully pushed his index finger into the ring to his knuckle. Niall yelped in pain, but quickly found the pleasure and his desire to be filled returned stronger than before. With a muffled grunt Niall sat up, a leg on each side of Zayn, and put his weight onto the finger until the rest of it was in as far as it could go. Zayn gave an encouraging smile. As Niall slowly rode the finger, Zayn made sure to stroke his sensitive prostate.   
  
Before Niall knew it, there were two digits stretching his tight hole. His expression changed with each new movement. He buried his face deep into the space between Zayn’s neck and shoulder.

Niall’s breath hitched, body pausing momentarily. “Z… Stop.”

Panic struck Zayn quickly. He knew he shouldn’t have initiated anything; he knew he overstepped his boundary with his bandmate.

Before Zayn could remove his hand from between Niall’s cheeks, Niall reared into his hand firmly. “Stop teasing me. I need you in me,” he whimpered lustfully. A light gasp escaped from Zayn. The blond lifted his head and locked eyes with the brunet. Zayn had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man before, he thought about how lucky he was to be staring into them, looking past his reflection in the pools of blue. Niall licked his pale pink lips, causing Zayn’s attention to shift from the calming eyes.

He glanced at Niall’s lips as he leaned up to kiss them softly, his hands embracing Niall’s jaw, thumbs brushing his tender cheeks. Zayn felt the other boy’s cock pulse against his stomach. He removed a hand from Niall’s cheek and reached down for the stiff dick, making Niall push back into Zayn’s.

Niall reached down and maneuvered the hard cock until the tip was at his hole. Zayn spit into the palm of his hand and rubbed his head and shaft with it. Niall rotated his hips just so as he allowed himself to stay relaxed and take the entirety of Zayn’s cut cock, throwing his head back and letting out a deep grunt. He paused for a moment, taking a breath and acclimating himself to the feeling of pressure in his ass. “Jesus, that feels good,” Niall murmured.

The tattooed boy’s eyes scanned Niall’s body up and down as it began to ride his cock gently. It was enough to make Zayn want to come right then and there, but he bit his lip and matched Niall’s pace, gyrating his hips into the blond. He placed his hands on Niall’s waist, guiding him kindly. He let a hand slip down to one of Niall’s cheeks, squeezing and pulling at the muscle, listening to the sounds of the Irish moans.

“Slap it,” Niall commanded, rhythm holding constant.

Zayn hesitated, but only for a moment before Niall felt the hand leave his ass, returning with a forceful clap. Niall tensed briefly, his skin stinging in an exciting way. Zayn left his hand on the now-red glute while his other hand found its way to Niall’s balls. As he massaged them, he took note of how soft they were. Zayn wanted nothing more but to pound Niall into oblivion, his cock ached for it, but he knew the blond wasn’t ready yet.

Precum leaked from the tip of Niall’s dick, sticking to Zayn’s stomach with each dip as he rode the length. Zayn continued to press into Niall, both breathing heavily. Zayn’s finger found its way to Niall’s filled hole. He rubbed the stretching flesh that surrounded his cock. Zayn reached up and clenched his fist around a cluster of blond hair at the back of Niall’s head. At the same moment, he slipped a finger between his own piece and the inside of the stretched hole. Niall winced and took a sharp breath in at the unexpected addition, his wince quickly fading into a smile reflecting the pleasure. Niall moaned, fully seating himself against Zayn’s hips, both finger and cock completely engulfed.

The brown boy stiffened even more. Still holding the locks at the back of Niall’s head, his grip tightened. And with one swift, graceful motion Niall was on his hands and knees with Zayn pumping behind him. Each thrust made the pale ass quiver, Zayn’s ball now slapping against Niall’s taint rhythmically. “Fucking pound me, Z,” Niall cried, his cock so hard that it barely moved as Zayn hammered him.

The Pakistani boy rammed harder and faster, his pelvis clapping against Niall’s rear. Spitting into his hand, he smacked Niall’s ass with nearly all his power. Spitting into his hand again, he reached down to palm the bottom’s solid member. 

“Mmm… ride me, Ni. Fuck my cock.” 

Niall complied. Zayn, still yanking his hair, quieted his hips, letting the younger slam backwards into him. Zayn put his hands behind his own head, fingers intertwining. He could smell his own manly scent radiating from his sweaty body. He looked down, watching as Niall’s ass took him. His toes began to tense as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, “Ni, you’re gonna make me shoot.” Quickly, Zayn grabbed Niall by one of his ankles and flipped him onto his delicate back, grabbed him by his hair and shoved his circumcised dick between Niall’s rosy lips. Shot after shot after shot hit the back of Niall’s throat, coating his tongue in the process.

Niall didn’t swallow, though. Rather, he leaned forward and pulled Zayn’s head closer to his own. The two kissed, white dripping from between their lips, as Niall jerked his own cock. His breathing became erratic and quick, “Fuck!” he mumbled into Zayn’s mouth as he covered his own chest in come.

  
Both boys looked at one another, exhausted. Zayn reached to grab is boxers and tossed them to Niall who in turn wiped himself clean. “That was really good, Z,” Niall said with a slight giggle. “Like _really_ good.” 

“I know,” Zayn replied cheekily. Niall could only laugh as Zayn collapsed half onto him and half beside him.

“Wanna continue this bit in bed?” Niall asked lazily. 

“Absolutely,” Zayn said in a yawn. “But, I don’t wanna move.”

Niall wiggled out from under Zayn and stood up. “Okay then, I’ll carry ya.” 

“How do you expect that to happen?”

“Easy. I’ll pick you up and carry you into the room,” Niall smiled confidently. 

Without waiting for a response, Niall bent over Zayn, both still naked, and put one arm under his legs and the other under his neck. With only a slight grunt, Niall lifted Zayn rather effortlessly. “See,” he said with a growing smile.

Zayn looked at Niall with a drop of longing in his eyes, “Don’t get cocky… you haven’t made it to the room, yet.” 

Niall chuckled as he carried Zayn into the bedroom and held him above the mattress. “Should I just let go? Oh, maybe throw ya?” the blond joked.

“Gently putting me down might work,” Zayn smirked.

“Nah… you’d have to pay a toll for that.” Niall’s eyes surveyed Zayn’s bare body until they reached his dick, “And, by the looks of it, you don’t seem to have any cash.”

“Is cash the only form of payment you take?”

“Sex is also accepted, but I’m spent. I could lower the asking price and just charge you a few kisses, though,” he said mockingly in a business-like way. 

Zayn’s felt the excitement well up inside him. The thought of Niall asking for a kiss from him, even if it was just playfully, made him swoon. “I guess I could afford it.”

“What’re ya waitin’ for den? Pay up.”

Zayn craned his head upward, squeezed his eyes shut and pouted his lips like a child expecting a kiss. Niall lingered briefly before leaning in the rest of the way. But instead of delivering the innocent, playful kiss Zayn was waiting for, he gave Zayn’s lips a sultry, passionate one. Zayn’s pursed lips immediately relaxed, letting Niall pry into his mouth. 

Niall continued to kiss him as he began to lower him down onto the mattress. Zayn was caught off guard, but didn’t want to stop him. Niall ran his hand through the dark hair and pulled away from Zayn’s lips. Zayn slowly revealed his honey brown eyes, finding Niall staring at him just inches away.

Without thinking, Zayn let the words fall from his lips. “I love you.”

The confession coagulated in the air. Zayn felt a pang in his chest as it became palpable and he realized the words were irrevocable. 

Niall was silent for a moment, only making it worse for Zayn. To keep from ruining the moment, Niall tried to respond as sensitively as he could. “I really like you a lot,” he said with a soft half-smile. And Zayn understood.   
  
They lie together quietly. Niall propped up on a pillow, Zayn tucked between his arm, enjoying the light strokes of Niall’s hand through his dark hair.   
  
“Will you sing something to me?” Niall whispered softly.   
  
Zayn froze for a moment, tempted to sing the only song he’d been listening to for the past few weeks, Leave Your Lover by Sam Smith, but he knew it would only hurt them both. Instead he pulled out a beautiful rendition of Wicked Games.


End file.
